Freedom was ours to
wander within their entwined rows, lost in admiration at their stretched acres,
so near where we lived in Fraser Town. I recall Sevanagar’s vintage vineyards alongside
Banaswadi, that boasted the famous ‘Bangalore Blue’ from which the wine
prepared, graced many a celebration at which a toast was raised!
As like the vines we
ourselves matured from teens to thirties between the nineteen sixties and
eighties, our experiences included jaunts to purchase grapes sold wholesale in
cane baskets, carried home for the large family to involve in wine making for
Christmas, and if left over, to serve later.
Duties would be
assigned to sort, destalk, weigh, wash, squash and layer out the juicy grapes in
stone jars. Inevitable we surreptitiously devoured some! Anyone eager for an
errand would dash round the corner to Albert Baker’s home on Robertson Road to
fetch fresh yeast. The same Albert Bakery of today’s Mosque Road fame and
Ramzan iftar name!
Blending a sweet
mild red wine involved blue grapes, water, wheat, sugar, stiffly whipped egg
white, all emptied into a stone jar tightly fitted with a screw top, to
initiate the fermentation process for 21 days. This according to a recipe of
proportions and preparation method, handed down through generations for
guidance, but possibly modified according to individual taste.
Thereafter, began twice
daily stirring for a week with a long handle wooden spoon, entailing quite some
muscle power. Stirring reduced to once daily for another week before the next
arduous task was taken up, requiring muslin cloths for squeezing out the ‘gooey’
mixture into a huge vessel to extract the somewhat refined ‘wine in process’. Additionally, flies that appear from
nowhere had to be kept at bay, as this liquid would be poured back into the jar,
left untouched for another week to mature while sediment settled, and the ‘gooey’
skins and seeds mix was disposed as wet waste.
With eager
expectation on ‘D’ or discovery day, tasting would occur. The wine would be poured out into the designated vessel, ensuring extreme care to retain the
sediment in the jar. From here, a steady hand would funnel it into sparklingly
washed sun dried empty glass bottles, perhaps once filled with Kissan Squash, stored
for this. Excitedly, all would glance at
the hue, voice opinions, vie for the first sip to ensure it had not turned sour
or become vinegar, but was just right!
Thrilled if so, then a tot passed around to sample and approve. No indulging
unfortunately, as those times, wine strangely was served in miniscule liqueur
glasses. Liqueur itself was a dream and even though we did possess those
glasses, did not own wine size glasses like today! Wine itself was then deemed
ever so precious, perhaps because of the laborious preparation involved.
On festive occasions
we enjoyed a choice from homes we visited and the tradition continues. Bengalureans today are wine connoisseurs with
ranges to choose from the home made to the high end, with vineyards spread and
species of grapes grown expanded. Vintners have turned a lucrative industry
into tourist attractions and educative expeditions. Mamas’ recipes though are
still treasured by Gen Next who has extended their expertise to flavours embracing
other fruits and grains…
Thus the humble and
the haughty co-exist. To each an individual flavor is irreplaceable. Habits die
hard...
Cheers ‘Bangalore Blue’
plus all that is new! A glass of wine still does me fine and mercifully too, no
more do I sip it by the thimbleful…
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